However Small
by DottyLonesome
Summary: She wasn't grand and everyone knew it. He wasn't grand, but out of everyone, only she knew it. She noticed it. They both noticed it. They noticed eachother noticing. 'It' wasn't love, but in their noticing, they witness how things aren't as clear as they are made out to be.


**AN: Her name is spelled like Cleo, but is pronounced Clay-oh.**

** Based off the musical, not the book.**

When he wanted something, he wanted it. Now. He didn't hesitate. He wasn't polite. And he certainly wasn't coy. He just took it. He had too much pride not to. He wasn't one to sit around and wait, and he would never become desperate enough to beg. He was ambitious and pompous and somber, but maybe that was the reason she was so engrossed with him. The fact that he took control so easily amazed her. Enjolras was definitely the type of human being whose presence demanded attention, whether he called for it or not. _"He was charismatic, magnetic, electric and everybody knew it. When he walked in, every woman's head turned, everyone stood up to talk to him. He was like this hybrid, this mix of a man who couldn't contain himself. I always got the sense that he became torn between being a good person and missing out on all of the opportunities that life could offer a man as magnificent as him."_

"The first lesson you 'revolutionaries' must learn is that you're all doomed men." She said to the drunkard seated next to her.

Grantaire moved in his chair so that he sat hunched over the table, threw his head back and took a nice, long swig from his dark liquor bottle. After a second or two, or more, his head and bottled hand dropped back into their previous positions.

"The only doom I foresee for me is tomorrow morning." Grantaire laughed out.

Cleo turned her head away from the other men in the room and settled her eyes on Grantaire, who steadily, but surely, ascended into 'shit-faced drunk'. She watched him press the bottle to his lips again a few more times in the next 60 seconds before he noticed her watching him. They stared at each other for a few seconds and then Grantaire suddenly wiggled his brows. He smirked and she snickered and then they both laughed. While his laughter was quiet and reserved, something unlike himself, hers was a hearty and joyful. The noise filled the room and soon small conversations were forced into silence and heads turned to find the source.

Cleo immediately became silent when she heard no other noise. She scanned the room only to see every face was turned and facing her. Just looking. She shrunk back into her chair and slumped a little to try and avert the pressure of their stares. The unbearable noiselessness shattered when Courfeyrac burst into a little fit of chuckles. The rest of the group smiled or laughed and returned to their previous conversations. She slowly sat back up in the creaking chair and glanced at every man in the room to make sure she was no longer being observed by them. Her eyes landed on Enjolras, the 'marble man', the 'beacon of light in the darkness'. He stared at her with squinted eyes that she could feel were full of judgment and criticism, it was almost a glare. Cleo returned his gaze, but hers contained a less serious atmosphere to them.

"He's scrutinizing me." She said, not breaking their stare.

She waited for a reply, but it didn't come.

She narrowed her eyes in the slightest before slowly turning her head to Grantaire, wondering why he didn't say anything back to her. Grantaire, no longer was there. She glared at the empty space where he once sat. That was irritating. He didn't even have the decency to tell her he was leaving. She may have been raised on the streets, but even she appreciated good manners every now and then. Cleo huffed out a short breath and then crossed her arms at her chest, slumping in the chair till both her's and the chair's backs met in a harsh encounter.

Since her only companion of the evening left her, Cleo resorted to watching the group, something she was quite good at. She was an excellent observer. She noticed most things happening wherever she was. She paid attention to the little details, like how Combeferre never raised his voice(even during angry and heated discussions), how the burgundy wine dripped from Grantaire's chin onto the white of his shirt, how Marius' nose scrunched upwards and created wrinkles when he laughed, how Eponine also noticed the little things about Marius. Cleo noticed how rigid Enjolras always was, how his brows were always scrunched in a thin line on his beautiful face, how serious he looked because his brows did that, how his light eyes would burst with enthusiasm when change and revolution was in the air, and how quickly that light would fade when he was challenged or when his ambitions took a harsh blow. She saw how he scoffed and turned away from the simple things that the average man would enjoy, how little he thought of his life in comparison to the lives of the people. She noticed how he was a dedicated lover to Patria, how dedicated he would be as an actual lover, how he could heavy a light mood between friends, how passionate he sounded when he spoke. She noticed how quickly his hand moved when he was writing. She noticed how when he was in deep thought, he'd pace around the room. She noticed how he'd act immediately when things weren't going as he'd planned. She noticed how he noticed. He was an excellent observer too.

That was something they often did when they were in each other's presence. They'd watch one another while the rest of the world continued on. Cleo honestly didn't know why they did. Maybe it was because they both noticed each other noticing and silently decided to keep noticing, waiting for something new to be discovered. Well that's how it was for her anyway. She had her suspicions of why he watched her, her favorite being that he was a control freak and had to know every little thing, but that was just a speculation and she probably would never know. She was comfortable with it though, the noticing. She noticed him noticing right now.

She ignored the feeling of Enjolras' gaze burning into her skull and just sat in her creaky chair.

She was waiting. Waiting for Eponine to come back so she could leave. Eponine, so madly in love with Marius Pontmercy, went everywhere he went and happened to drag Cleo along with her. She always had the boy in her brain and wanted to be as close and wanted to know as much about him as she could. She wanted the world of Marius Pontmercy to consume her! Marius asked Ponine to deliver a letter somewhere around the city, maybe near Notre Dame, and of course she jumped at the chance to please him. In her pursuit of making this oblivious boy happy, she didn't realize that she left Cleo here with the Amis to wallow, and knowing Ponine, she'd be here for quite sometime. Cleo was used to this though. It wasn't on occasion that Eponine would go on what Cleo called 'Marius runs', and she'd be left at the Musain with the Amis to keep her company.

Cleo didn't know why she waited for her friend(who sometimes never even came back at all). She didn't know why she'd let Eponine bring her anywhere if she already knew she be left on her own. But she did it, time and time again, she'd come to these stupid meetings and rallies. She agreed with the general idea that Enjolras and his group were proposing, but it was just that, a general outline of a hopeful, and very unlikely, dream. Of course you'd think that someone living as a 'street-rat' would jump for joy and scream out "Vive la France!" with them. They were ignorant. The minds of little children in the bodies of grown men. That's how she saw this situation.

"Why are you here?" a voice came from above her.

Cleo looked up and was met with the face of Enjolras. Did he really just ask her the purpose of her being here? She was stunned.

"What?"

Enjolras' eyes narrowed as he repeated his question again. His voice, naturally angry, deepened a little.

She wondered how angry his voice could get, how far she could actually push Enjolras. Cleo's eyes brightened and smiled at the idea. She knew she wouldn't exactly get the results she was looking for, since they were in front of a group, but if she could get a rise out of him, she'd consider it a good day.

"Why, I'm here for a little political discussion, just like the rest."

"You aren't exactly discussing politics, or with anyone for that matter."

"I believing I'm discussing right now, with you. It might not be about politics, but it's still a conversation."

Enjolras grew a little red in the face, the tension between them rising. Enjolras took the seat across from her. He didn't respond to her, just looked at her, feeling the need to continue their ritual. His face was still red.

"You're quite the hot-head Enjolras." Cleo laughed, breaking the tensed silence.

"How would you say?"

Cleo leaned closer to Enjolras, propping her elbows on her knees.

"You don't like being challenged, even if it is with stupid, witty comments. It makes you uncomfortable, and you get angry, it's like a reflex for you to get angry. BUUUT since you were raised to be the 'gentleman' you are, you try to reserve that anger. I'll let you know though, Enjolras, your face heats up like the air over an open flame, and it's not hard to see."

Enjolras stayed quiet(shocker) and just as Cleo said, his face grew red.

"Just like right now." She replied curtly.

Cleo rose from her chair and sat down on Enjolras' lap. She touched a hand to his burning face. His brows, how she noticed before, were furrowed into an angry line on his forehead.

"Red's a nice color for that jacket of yours, but I'm afraid, on your face it doesn't do you any justice."

He just looked at her face in disbelief, mouth open slightly and his eyes constantly searching hers. She liked this, playing with him, making him mad. She knew it was working too. She kept her hand to his face, moving her thumb, stroking his cheek.

"You want to know why I'm really here Enjolras?"

"To cause me grief." He said immediately and rudely.

Cleo gave a small smile at his quick comment.

"No."

She retrieved her palm from the side of his face and abruptly stood up from his lap and took a few steps away before turning back around to face him.

"I'm waiting."

Enjolras scoffed at her quickly turning away and then turning back as he put his hand up to the top of his pants.

"Love is game that I suggest you don't play here."

It was Cleo's turn to laugh. Enjolras beamed at her, confused as to her laughter.

"I'm not here hoping for some stupid boy to notice me, you idiot. Eponine, I'm waiting for Ponine to return."

She took two steps towards Enjolras.

"The people don't care about 'lonely souls'." Cleo said referencing words that Enjolras used quite frequently.


End file.
